


my love has gone

by neverwantedtodance



Series: my youth (is yours) [2]
Category: Love Live! Sunshine!!
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, F/F, Pre-Series, Slice of Life, mentions of kanamari & yoshidia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-12-31 23:57:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12143931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverwantedtodance/pseuds/neverwantedtodance
Summary: She wants control and balance. She also wants to feel the silk bed sheets again, to drink peach juice and feel Mari’s kisses against her collarbones. She wants to indulge in Mari’s existence.-Dia and Mari, the summer before Mari leaves, and the summer she returns.





	my love has gone

**Author's Note:**

> heyo again \o/  
> this is sort of a prequel to my yoshidia work 'a study in lingerie' in that they're set in the same universe, but you don't necessarily have to read one to enjoy the other (though i wouldn't complain if you did read them both ahahaha)  
> i wrote this bc i wanted to write a younger dia, and touch upon why she is the way she is a bit more than the anime did :> also i wanted more of her relationship with mari~  
> italics when mari is talking are for english or italian  
> i hope you enjoy this!!

The sun sets in a blaze of glory. The view from Awashima Hotel is stunning. Yet Dia feels an emptiness inside of her as she stands on the balcony.

Mari walks up beside her, a round glass in her hand. It’s filled with a light peach-coloured liquid.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” she says, leaning on the railing. The light end-of-summer breeze whips her white dress around her ankles, the fabric moving gently through the air. It’s a bit entrancing.

“Which is your favourite part? _I like the orange_ ,” Mari says in a lilting voice. Dia looks straight ahead at the blinding light and thinks for a moment.

“The red,” she decides after a while. The dark red at the bottom, burning brightly … yes, that’s her favourite part.

“Your image colour,” Mari notices, because she never misses anything, and flashes Dia a small smile. “ _Rosso Valentino_. Don’t let your passion  _die_ , Dia,” she says, laughing obnoxiously at her own joke. Dia can’t help but look at her fondly.

“The only thing that’s dead are your jokes, Mari,” she says, shading her eyes with a hand as the light suddenly shines down on them.

“Do you want to go to the beach?” Mari asks, finishing her drink. A mint leaf floats at the bottom of the glass.

Around Mari, she finds she gets a lot more ready to be impulsive, because she arrived with her bikini on underneath her clothes.

“Why not?” she says casually, and they go.

* * *

Dia swims while Mari watches, sitting on an abandoned white beach chair.

She floats on her back, staring at the sunset. It’s been going on for hours, seemingly, and it’s so bright it feels like it will never end. Her hair is loose around her, floating aimlessly through the water. The scene is so tranquil, but she still feels so empty. Summer feels like it’s been going on forever, but she can’t quite grasp the moments in her hands. They’re slipping away from her without any control, just like Mari will soon slip away.

 _It’s what you wanted_ , she says, and she knows it’s true. She just wished what was the right thing to do wasn’t so difficult.

She gets out of the water after that. She doesn’t really feel like swimming anymore.

She wraps a red towel around herself, shivering slightly, even though it’s a warm evening. Mari pushes her sunglasses to the top of her head and squints at Dia. She tries not to feel uncomfortable with the way Mari’s eyes follow a drop of sea water trailing down her calf. Being observed like this gives her a feeling of losing control, like everything has since Aqours was first formed.

“Let me buy you yakitori,” Mari says.

They lick the sauce from their fingers and drink apple juice as they sit at the mostly empty snack bar, the owner having left after he’d served them, the last customers of the evening. The beach is also empty, most people in Uchiura becoming bored of the constant sounds of the ocean, and the tourists having left by now.

“Food tastes so much better by the beach,” Dia says with a sigh.

Mari giggles. “Even with the sand that somehow gets in it?”

Dia smiles back. “That just makes the experience better.”

Mari wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and Dia wrinkles her nose. For two rich kids, they both had totally different table manners.

“Mmm, I don’t want today to end, Dia,” Mari mumbles. Dia has to lean closer to hear her. “Let’s just keep hanging out a while longer, _okay_?”

“Okay,” says Dia, her mouth dry even though she just drank.

Mari slides her leg against Dia’s, trailing her foot up her leg.

“Is that meant to be sexy?” Dia says bluntly. “Because it’s not. You just got sand all up my leg.”

Mari laughs, loudly and brilliantly, and against the backdrop of waves and seagulls and the occasional car going past, it’s the greatest sound Dia’s heard all summer.

“ _Sei bellissima_ ,” Mari mutters again. “Let’s go back to the hotel.”

Dia’s heartbeat quickens, just for a second.

* * *

Mari can borrow any room in the hotel she wants, or so she says. Dia’s never wondered if this claim was true or not, but gone along with it. They get room 70, because Mari says it’s ‘speaking to her’. Dia goes along with that too.

The silk sheets on the bed are a light rose colour and cold to the touch. Dia sits down gracefully, while Mari wanders about, picking up ornaments and putting them down again, opening and shutting the balcony doors, and generally being a nuisance.

Dia has the innate knowledge of what’s about to happen. She’s not an idiot - the private hotel room has enough implications for her to figure it out - but there’s also something in the atmosphere of the room, or maybe something that’s changed between them.

“Are you going to sit down or what?” Dia asks with a touch more bravado than she actually has.

Mari sits down beside her, and all of a sudden they’re _close_. Dia’s heartbeat quickens again, and this time stays that way, thumping against her chest in an honestly frightening way.

“You have a lot of  _confidence_ for someone who’s never done this before, Dia,” Mari says in a smooth tone of voice that feels like honey to Dia’s ears. She can feel Mari’s breath on her ear as the other girl leans closer.

“You assume that I haven’t done this before.”

Mari gives her a look, and Dia sighs. She hates that look because she knows she can just as easily recreate it.

“I just … want some control in my life,” Dia says at last. Mari nods, looking thoughtful, and then she stands up. Dia’s expression falls slightly, wondering if Mari’s changed her mind. She realises then that she really doesn’t want that.

Mari walks around the other other side of the bed and lies down, propped up slightly on the white pillows.

Dia turns to look at her. Mari raises an eyebrow.

“You wanted control,” she says, like it’s the simplest thing, the simplest solution in the world. “ _Come and get it_ ,” she says in a low voice, and Dia has the sudden urge to laugh. She realises that maybe Mari’s searching for control as much as she is. The situation’s both funny, attractive, and a little sad.

“Stop trying to be sexy so much,” she says, turning around and crawling on the bed to sit next to Mari. They look at each other.

“Is this where you tell me I’m sexy already? Oh Dia, I’m flattered.”

Dia fights two urges - one to roll her eyes, and one to answer “yes” unequivocally.

She finally settles on “It just makes me wants to laugh.” It’s partly true.

Mari’s expression turns serious. Even then, she still looks like she’s about to tell a terrible joke.

“Let’s not laugh then … Let me teach you the tricks of the trade, Dia-san,” Mari says.

“What’s with the formalities?” Dia questions, but let’s Mari crawl on top of her. There’s a light pressure from the way their bodies are pressed against each other, and it sends a thrill down Dia’s spine.

“No reason at all,” Mari says, pressing a surprisingly tender kiss to Dia’s forehead, then her nose, cheeks, and finally her lips. The touch is so light it’s almost nonexistent, and yet Dia again feels the weight of it.

Her hands automatically find Mari’s waist. The other girl smiles, moving her leg up against Dia. She lets out a small gasp.

“ _Very good_ ,” Mari whispers. Dia feels like she’s floating in the water again, without purpose, without reason, but with an instinct that this is inexplicably right.

Their bodies move against each other, their mouths meeting and parting, their hands finding out where to touch and where to linger. Mari guides Dia’s hands to her chest, and Dia lets herself be guided, lets herself be lost to the pleasure.

Mari moves down her body, and Dia loses the last bit of sense Mari hadn’t ripped from her.

The rest of the evening comes in flashes when she recalls it later. She has the vivid image of Mari’s white dress, moving slightly again because of some light breeze, being pulled up her thighs, spread around her like the robes of an angel.

She falls asleep for a while. When she wakes, Mari is standing out on the balcony. Dia wraps a silk dressing gown around herself. The Ohara family love silk, she’s noticed. The smoothness of it is everywhere. It leaves Dia feeling more naked than she was before, somehow.

She walks over to Mari. The other girl is staring out across the sea like it will answer all her questions.

Dia doesn’t feel changed, or different. The control is still slipping away from her - which means she needs to hold on harder. _Yet_ , she thinks whilst looking at Mari,  _there are some things you just need to let happen_.

Mari’s hands clench against the railing. Her knuckles are startlingly white in the moonlight.

“Good evening,  _sleepyhead_ ,” she says.

“What time is it?”

“Oh, only ten. We’ve got time.” Mari looks at Dia out of the corner of her eye, and she blushes slightly.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a while,” Mari says, turning her attention to the ocean at night once more. The water is dark and Dia feels empty still.

There’s a pause, and then Mari speaks again, so fiercely that Dia starts. “Don’t think I did this for no reason,” she says, her voice full of emotion. “I love you, Dia.” It’s not necessarily romantic, but Dia doesn’t need it to be.

“I love you too,” she says. That’s why she’s letting her leave.

“I heard a song on the radio today.” Mari finally turns to look at Dia. “ _I'm just playing games, I know that's plastic love_ ,” she sings, her voice standing out against the silence of the night air. Dia listens. She recognises the tune slightly. She thinks maybe she heard it when she was a child, just as helpless as she is now. She resolves to bring more control into her life. She must, otherwise she feels like she’ll lose herself completely to the past.

She takes Mari’s ice-cold hands and leads her back into the hotel room. Like Mari said, they’ve got time.

* * *

Two years later, Mari approaches her at last. She’s cornered in her student council room chair, Mari still looking like she’s about to tell a joke.

“Ah, Dia, Dia, Dia,” she says, her voice lilting and slightly more mature than it was in their first year. Dia has memories of Mari calling her name in other situations, and she blushes despite herself.

“What do you want?”

Mari chuckles. “You know what I want, _amore mio_.”

“I’m not your love anymore, Mari,” Dia says, trying desperately to hang onto the control she’s worked so hard to get. Mari’s Italian is having a new effect on her. She supposes that’s what happens when you’re deprived of something.

“I know, Dia,” Mari says sadly, perching on the desk. Dia’s mind conjures up images of a white dress, but Mari’s in her school uniform. Still, thigh highs and a short skirt can be just as appealing.

“What I’m saying is, you can be my love again. It’ll be just like the past.”

Dia thinks about this for a bit. A part of her is nostalgic for the days she spent running about the beach with Mari and Kanan, the nights in Awashima Hotel with them, sometimes ones just with Mari. Like the last night, which opened her eyes to a new world.

“Just like the past?” she questions. Mari’s eyes gleam with mirth.

“Well, not exactly. I’m sure a _bella signora_ such as yourself has a lot more experience now.”

Dia flinches as Mari’s crassness but basks in the compliment.

“And what about yourself? I’m not sure Kanan would appreciate this gesture.” Does it make her a horrible person that she’s only just now considered Kanan? She’s honestly not sure.

Mari laughs, swinging her legs. She can pretend she hasn’t changed all she wants, but Dia can see it in her - see it in both of them, in fact.

“We’re not quite there yet,” Mari says. Her tone of voice implies that they will be soon. Dia finds herself feeling nothing. Her younger self would have felt so helpless. Now, she’s not so much burdened by exclusivity. Or lack thereof.

Mari continues. “Besides, Kanan knows me. We have an … _agreement_.”

“You want to sleep around,” Dia says, the words feeling acidic on her tongue as she spits them out. It’s cruel and hypocritical, but she wants to see what Mari does.

“Enjoying your time with Yoshiko lately?” Mari fires back, and Dia smirks despite herself. She’s missed their little verbal spats. They smile at each other despite the horrible truths they're exposing.

Mari, as usual, has not missed a thing, though she has not concrete evidence.

Dia shrugs. “I enjoy time with a lot of people.”

Mari leans closer. “I want to enjoy some time with you,” she says. Her breath is warm against Dia’s cheek, and she shudders. Despite herself, despite all her efforts, she hasn’t changed one bit.

She bites her lip and stays silent.

Mari accepts defeat and gets up, except that’s not what Mari does at all. She flashes Dia a megawatt smile, pulls a key from somewhere on her person and tosses it at Dia. She raises her hands instinctively and catches it.

Mari winks. “ _Come and get it_ ,” she says, drawing out her vowels and making Dia feel as if she’s floating in the ocean once again. She’s a little more grounded in reality, or at least she hopes so. Mari makes all her hard work come undone. It’s not necessarily a bad thing.

She looks at the key. There’s a little light rose-coloured tag with “Awashima Hotel” in curvy English letters. Underneath, the number 70.

“Doesn’t this feel a little cheap?” Dia asks and Mari walks towards the door.

Mari turns and shrugs. “You seem convinced we’re just repeating the past. I just want to make new memories. You can decide for yourself which is true.”

She turns to go.

“I’ll be there tonight,” she calls as she leaves.

Dia stares down at the golden key in her hands. She wants control and balance. She also wants to feel the silk bed sheets again, to drink peach juice and feel Mari’s kisses against her collarbones. She wants to indulge in Mari’s existence.

She thinks about Mari’s last words and smiles. She already knows the truth.

She pockets the key.

**Author's Note:**

> the song mari sings is called plastic love by mariya takeuchi & it can be found on youtube! it's a great song so u all should listen to it!!  
> here are the italian translations for those interested:  
> rosso valentino: rosso means red. mari's referencing the rosso valeninto fashion collection by valentino garavani  
> sei bellissima: a way of calling someone attractive  
> amore mio: my love  
> bella signora: beautiful lady
> 
> i hope you all enjoyed reading!! please leave comments and kudos if you did :)


End file.
